Praying mantis on the court and I can't be beat...

I saw a praying mantis today at work. Aren't they supposed to be good
luck? Or is it that they're a harbinger of ruin? I can't remember. I
suppose we'll find out in the next few days, now won't we.

This as close as he let me get, btw. He was sizing me up and then was
all "yo, any closer and I'm peacing out." Hence the remote picture.
--johnberard

THIS.
--johnberard

You could be mine, but you're way outta line.

I just found out today that Slash from Guns N' Roses/Velvet Revolver will be taking a page from the Axl Rose book and penning his own autobiography. (Whoa bad pun totally not intended). Anyway, I stumbled across an excerpt from it. When I started reading, I was all "okay, this is kinda like the Motley Crue book, which I enjoyed, so I'll keep reading." Here's a very small excerpt:

"I should have been drawing the little demon men that I could never quite see or seem to capture on film - believe me, I tried. As soon as I started to speedball regularly, those little guys were everywhere. They were small, wiry, translucent characters that I saw from afar until eventually they'd crawl up my jacket whenever I got high. I wanted to get to know them in a way; as I lay on the floor, waiting for my heart rate to relax, I'd watch the little Cirque du Soleil show that those guys would put on all over the room. I often thought about waking Megan up so that she could check it out. I even took pictures of them in the mirror when I found them perched on my shoulder and in my hair. I started to talk about them and see them so clearly that I even freaked out my drug dealer. On the rare occasion when I'd leave the house to score my drugs, I'd usually shoot up right away at his place and then start seeing those little guys crawling up my arm.

'Hey, do you see that?' I'd ask, extending my arm. 'You see that little guy, right? He's right there.'

My dealer would just stare at me expressionless. This guy was a drug dealer who was pretty used to strange junkie behaviour. 'You'd better go, man,' he say. 'You're way too out there. You should go home.' Apparently I was bad for business."

Yeah. And it then it gets more interesting.

Read the rest of the excerpt here.

Mah weekend, let me show it to you.

I worked sound for a puppet show.

It was put on by a Canadian puppet troupe.

They also TOTALLY said "eh" after everything. MYTH CONFIRMED.
--johnberard

Keep Your Mouth Shut, Keep Your Guard Up - I Swear I'll Make It Right.

With hesitance, I picked the new Dashboard Confessional record up on Friday afternoon. I say I did so with hesitance because I had flashbacks to loyally buying Dusk And Summer a few years ago, expecting maybe a A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar sequel, and being horribly disappointed. However, at the suggestion of Jessica, who had written a short review of it early last week, I caved and bought it. Well that turned out to be the suggestion of the month.

The first thing that struck me about the album is the noticeable "regression" in to the classic Dashboard sound. All the guitars on the record are acoustic, and about half of the songs are just Chris Carrabba and his guitar. The other half of the songs are peppered tastefully with other instruments, but the band never trespasses in to the territory of electric guitars. The songs are raw and organic, and the production compliments the songs exquisitely.

The thing that made Dashboard huge was the fact that Carrabba had a way of penning lyrics that evoked raw emotion in us. The way he phrased his heartache and anguish made us all go "I've never been able to put words to that emotion when I've felt it, but this - THIS is exactly what I feel, this is how I hurt." It was like he was inside our heads - like he had a pulse on every emotion we had. Or was it that, not only could he understand us and speak for us, but he was one of us. He was just like us.

With Dusk And Summer, Carrabba seemed to lose some of that unpolished emotion. The songs were cookie cutter and the words and music just didn't resonate with us like they used to. Had he lost his hold over us? I thought maybe he had. But then I bought The Shade Of Poison Trees.

While the first three records focused mainly on the catastrophe of heartbreak and the loneliness of unrequited adulation, Shade deals with a broader variety of subjects. However, it still manages to lead us to those sing-until-your-lungs-give-out moments we discovered when we heard the first chorus of "Screaming Infidelities." "Thick As Thieves" and "The Widow's Peak" deal with the imperfections and realities of being in a serious, functioning relationship, while "Watch For The Mines" and "Little Bombs" deal with shadiness and lies of a so-called friend. The content is slightly more adult, as if the lyrics are maturing right along with us while the music remains as stirring as it always has.

All this maturity aside, though, Carrabba doesn't completely stray from his old standbys of languishing for the attention of another person ("The Rush") or the simple, inherent desire to be loved ("These Bones") which first gave him a place in our hearts and on our emo playlists.

Forgive my manner of speaking
I know it's quick, but the clock is still ticking
And I've got a few words left burning holes on my tongue
I've been saving them
So lay with me

I could use the company

You could help me ease
These bones

I've owned this record for roughly 60 hours, and I've listened through it close to 25 times. It's the perfect compliment to the other emo record I've been obsessed with for the past week (Jimmy Eat World's Chase This Light, which will be reviewed here soon, obvsly.) It caused me to break the entire Dashboard catalog out (Man, I can't remember the last time I sang along to "The Good Fight") and have myself a circa-2004 emo-thon last night. But that's why we listen to music. It helps us to express things we cannot express solely by ourselves. It allows us to say the things we're meaning to say and get out what we normally couldn't. And good ol' reliable Dashboard Confessional is once again there to take us by the arm and lead the way.

Looking back now, I'm not sure how we made it through - not all of us, but most.

Sometimes I look back on what bands have gotten me where I am today musically. Usually, those thoughts bring me back to my pre-driver's license years of 1995-1996. At the time I was in to straight-up-Lookout! Records-era pop punk. I was spinning Screeching Weasel and The Queers and The Mr. T Experience and The Hi-Fives and dutch rolling my jeans over my Chucks or combat boots and wearing a choke collar around my neck held in place with a diaper-sized safety pin. Then I found the Bosstones.

The first song I can remember hearing was "Where'd You Go?" on WBRU. The next day, I asked one of the guys I worked with if he had ever heard of The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. He looked at me like I was a retard, pulled out his CD book, (remember carrying those bad boys around? Wait, I still do...) and popped in Devil's Night Out for me. I loved it. I never listened to bands with horns before (save for my parents spinning Chicago records during their infrequent housecleaning sessions). I loved it. I went out and bought Ska-Core, The Devil, And More, which was the EP with "Someday I Suppose" and a couple covers and live tracks. (Incidentally, I would later work with one of the guys who engineered this record. I learned later that this gentleman destroyed Donny Wahlberg's record on the Pac-Man machine at Normandy Studios during the recording of Hangin' Tough. Apparently, Donny was not pleased.) I was hooked.

I stayed with them for the rest of their tenure - through the highest high with Let's Face It (which received an honorable mention in my All Time Desert Island Top 5 Flawless Records post a few months ago) to the utter disappointment and critical failure that was Pay Attention (Incidentally, I'm one of the seven people on the planet that celebrated this record) and their swan song, aptly named A Jacknife To A Swan.

And then they announced they were breaking up. Joe Gittleman was busy with the ill-fated Avoid One Thing. Sirois joined up with Nate Albert's new project, The Street Dogs. Ben Carr (who worked with my mom at Starbucks, incidentally) wanted to spend more time with his family, and Dicky, obviously, moved to L.A. to announce for Jimmy Kimmel. I went to their last Providence show, which was also the last show I ever attended at old Lupo's, and remember just going absolutely ape-shit. I knew that it was the last I would ever see of them, and a coversation a few weeks later with Joe The Kid validated this. One thing was for certain - a big part of my formative musical identity was gone.

Years later (or 4 months ago) I would name the Bosstones as one of the 5 bands from 1990 on that I would love to see re-united.

And then today, I received a bulletin from The Mighty Mighty Bosstones official MySpace page:

ATTENTION!!!
AT 12:00PM EST THERE WILL BE A MAJOR BOSSTONES ANNOUNCEMENT MADE ON WBCN IN BOSTON. YOU CAN ALSO LISTEN LIVE @ WBCN.COM

"No way." I thought. "NO WAY." In lolcat. "NOWAI!!" And then an hour later:

WWW.BOSSTONESMUSIC.COM

Needless to say, I'm ecstatic. It's been over four years since I have seen these guys on stage. And apparently that was long enough. The Bosstones are back, if only for a few select dates. For me, it's like being a kid again - it just brings me back to a simpler time in my life when I had to worry about curfews and being caught smoking and praying to god that my dad's old VW was going to make it up the icy hill to school. And I can't fucking wait.

EDIT: From my "reunited" journal: "Those were the sweatiest, smokiest, drunkest shows I've ever been to, and what I wouldn't give to see them play just one more time..." Still true.

My mom's dog just had puppies! I can haz?
--johnberard

These are the words I wish I wrote down.

I don't know what it is, but I've been connecting with so much music as of late that it's a little scary. I mean, I am listening to music constantly, but I've always done that. Within the last few months, though, I've really been connecting with a lot of it. Maybe it's because I've found a strong core of 5 to 6 records that have really made a lyrical impact on me. As I wrote that sentence, it just occurred to me that I'm soundtracking my life again. I'm not sure what causes me to do this, but I think it's a subconscious security blanket.

Just remember always counting down to a new start
You always knew the truth
And the world would spin around you
Are you dizzy yet?

I went to make a mix on Monday. (I am currently sans iPod, so my mixes are all limited to whatever a single CDR can hold.) For some reason, I've done this for the past few useless holidays - seriously, I have a mix labeled "Victory Day." Not that the songs have anything to do with Victory Day, it's just the random holiday I made it on. Regardless, I started off by putting some songs I haven't listened to in a while on it: Soul Asylum's "Somebody To Shove," Oasis' "Slide Away," Foo Fighters' "Baker Street," etc. At some point, though, I just started unthinkingly picking songs, and when I went back to listen, I was kind of taken aback at what had found it's way on the playlist.

We all bloom faster in an oncoming disaster.

Wilco's "When You Wake Up Feeling Old," Norah Jones' "Be My Somebody," Lucinda Williams' "Still I Long For Your Kiss," Midtown's "Waiting For The News," The Specials' "You're Wondering Now," Spill Canvas' "Sunsets And Car Crashes," and so on. I mean COME ON? Seriously? I can not haz teh emo? I can not haz sad bastard music?

Who knows anything
I don't know
There are so many things
I must leave alone
Some strange person is calling you their home
Can you be where you want to be?

I suppose I was just in a mood that day. And then I got a copy of the new Jimmy Eat World. OBSESSED. I've probably listened to it a dozen times already. And I've been looking up the lyrics online as I go. GET OUT OF MAH HEAD PLZ.

I sure want to get back on track
And I'’ll do whatever it takes
Even if it kills me.

Oh, and DO WANT:

I could worry myself to death about you - I hope you get there safely.

So yesterday was really bittersweet. It most definitely had its ups and downs, and I've decided to list them in a pro/con format.

PRO. It was Columbus Day, so I had the day off from work and got to sleep in.

CON. I didn't sleep in. I was awoken at 9:30 by a fucking marching band cruising down my street. Oh hai parade.

PRO. They were playing "Eye Of The Tiger" by Survivor.

CON. Hangoverz.

PRO. Poorman finished the mixes for the record, so Jeff, Tim, and I went to the studio to get our first listens. OMG. SO. FUCKING. EXCITED.

CON. While at the studio, we got the news that Hot Rod Circuit was calling it quits.

PRO. The mixes sound fan-fucking tastic. They go off to be mastered at the end of the month.

CON. ALL ABOARD THE FAILBOAT.

PRO. I was shown my (and now your) new favorite website: LOLSecretz. It's a combination of lolcats and Post/LJ Secrets. Prepare to LOL for days.

OK, This is day one of my upcoming 11 straight days of work. Good times!

You CAN go back.

I touched on this subject briefly the other day, but I cannot explain how much I am looking forward to my pending change of address.

This morning, I did some work downtown. It was a cool, overcast morning, and for the first time all month, it actually felt like October. The breeze was blowing the crisp autumn air right up Smith Hill, whipping the flags flying in front of the state house so that they were almost perpetually straight. After a bit of work, I headed over to Thayer Street for a little breakfast. There wasn't much time to eat, so The Creperie was out (as were the four places on Wickenden that I passed on my way, which were so busy that the waiting crowd was spilling out on to the street). I opted for Au Bon Pain, which I'm normally not a fan of, but for some reason, I sat there eating my egg and cheese sandwich (on ciabatta, by the way, which I've never had, but I might be slightly enamored with) and drinking my tea (which it is finally cold enough for), I just felt - I dunno - home.

It really made me miss all the little things that I used to do. And it made me look forward to doing them again. 7am runs down Blackstone Boulevard. Fresh asparagus ravioli from Venda. Sunday brunches on Hope Street. Post-Sunday-brunch sangria sessions at the Flats. Time-wasting at the Brown Bookstore. Frisbee at India Point. Caserta pizza runs. Hangs on the Hot Club deck. And so on.

I guess all this was triggered by the issue of Rhode Island Monthly I read this afternoon. There were two features that really struck me and kind of instilled all this renewed nostalgia. First was an article about the best features of Federal Hill. Which, incidentally, was mostly about food that I can't eat. But still, I spent the first two-and-a-half years of my tenure in Providence living on the hill, and it brought those many nights of Sicialia's stuffed pizzas back from the recesses of my memory. My mouth is watering right now just thinking about it... The second story was a reflection written by Buddy Cianci. In it, he talked about his time in prison, the things that he'd learned and thought about while there, and the changes he's made in his life. While unrelated to my current infatuation with Providence, he said something that really struck a chord with me. Cianci said "Success is measured by reaching into your soul and saying 'What [would] make me happy, and how do I achieve those goals?'" and it really justified the self-reflection that I've been dabbling in as of late.

It's going to be nice to be home. Even though I wasn't ever far away, it still felt like I was. See you in a couple weeks, my dear city.

And, now for no particular reason, here is a lolruth.

OMFG.

I don't know what to do with you, because you, you don't know what you do to me.

I just don't understand how things like this happen. I mean seriously, things are going along just great, they best they have all year, and then suddenly, like Keyser Soze, all the momentum just disappears. And now I'm left standing here scratching my head, dumbstruck, mouth agape, wondering what the fuck is going on.

For reals, the New York Yankees have the best record since the All-Star break. Chien-Ming Wang has pitched amazingly all summer (he'll come in third in the Cy Young voting behind Beckett and Sabbathia), A-Rod will be the unanimous AL MVP, Posada had a career year (at the age of 35, mind you), and Joba Chamberlain comes out of left field (literally, that's where the bullpen is) to pitch 24 innings of flawless baseball, save for a single home run he allowed.

But now here it is, baseball in October, and for the third year in a row, the Yankee ship is lilting dangerously, and is one more poorly played game away from sinking and bringing the promise of that 27th Championship down with it yet again. And I don't get it. Consider this:

• Wang, the staff ace, gets lit up for 9 hits, 8 runs (all earned), and 2 home runs in 4 2/3 innings of work on Thursday night. His ERA for 2007: 3.70. His ERA for the 2007 postseason: 15.43.
• Alex Rodriguez went 0-2 with 2 walks in Game 1, and last night in Game 2, he went 0-4 with 3 strikeouts. A-Rod is now 4-47 (.085) with zero RBI in his last 14 postseason games.
• And Joba. Last night, in 1 2/3 of an inning, the normally lights-out Chamberlain walked 2 batters, hit another, threw 2 wild pitches, allowed the tying run to score, and earned himself a blown save.
  

Oh, and then there was the situation with the bugs. But while the gnats were busy breeding in the moist rolls of fat on Joba's neck, the Indians were seemingly unaffected and seized the opportunity to go up 2-0 in the series.

Le siiiigh. The Yankees are becoming as hapless as the pre-2004 Red Sox used to be. But they're not the loveable losers the Red Sox were, or the Cubs are now. They're classic choke artists - frustrating and maddening and liable to give their elderly fans heart attacks at any time.

Ugh, one more game to go. Will the be put out of their misery, or will they right the ship. I'm not making any predictions here, but the Rockies bandwagon will be by in a few minutes, and I've already purchased my ticket online.

DO WANT.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

First I reduced my writing frequency. Up until about July, I had been fervently updating my Buzznet page, but a severe bout of busyness and writer's block, coupled with a feeling of general apathy led me to stop altogether.

Before Buzznet, it was LiveJournal. Before that it was MySpace. Before that it was Blogspot. So I've come full circle, and decided re-use my original blogging host.

As far as recycling goes, I'm not quite sure what I'm recycling here - maybe previous journal ideas that never came to fruition. Maybe I'm recycling the idea that I actually can - and should continue to - write after giving it up for that short while. I wrote my first entry in a long time yesterday, and it felt so very good to be able to be back at the keyboard. Regardless of how recycling does or doesn't fit in the theme of this blog, I've made a determination to actually keep this one up.